


wishing you were here, with nothing left to fear

by glittermarxism



Series: Sapphic Shenanigans [2]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Prom, prom au, tord is tori's lil brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 07:19:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11504442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glittermarxism/pseuds/glittermarxism
Summary: It's Senior Prom!Tamara, Tori, Ell and Matilda are all planning to go together as friends and have a good time, dammit. Things are looking up, even despite Tamara's cynical nature, until Tori cancels last minute. Though all three are perplexed, Tamara can't let it go.TL;DR: Tamara sulks about Tori not coming to prom, and Tori has... some more pressing things to deal with.(Spoiler Alert: Everything is (mostly) okay in the end)





	wishing you were here, with nothing left to fear

**Author's Note:**

> again!! this fic is sort of a prequel to an rp where Tori and Tamara get together in college and are stupidly adorable about it. so, if this is too much of a downer, remember that context!!!
> 
> this fic does contain depictions of abuse and generally is Kind of Uncomfortable with the POV switches, but that is intentional. it's sort of to show how, while they like each other, Tamara and Tori don't know each other very well at this point in their lives.

It wasn’t really as if she wanted to go to her senior prom. Tamara was sure the venue and decor would be subpar, the music cheesy, the alcohol inaccessible for hawk-eyed chaperones, and the entire thing would be complete chaos for her anxiety. Noises, lights, the whole works. She hated concerts for that reason, and she wasn’t exactly stoked to be in a room full of sweaty teenagers.

But, it also wasn’t as if she was opposed to going. Something about senior prom seemed mandatory, and maybe even fun. The Hot-Topic laced cynicism Tamara sported hadn’t seeped so deep into her persona that she couldn’t foresee actually having a bit of fun at prom. Ell would grab her arm and they’d sing along to some awful song they enjoyed in middle school, and Tamara would feel the pleasant warmth of nostalgia and safety that she always felt with Ell. Matilda would grab her hands and pull her into a dance, and even for her arrogance Tamara could admire her beauty and her enthusiasm. Tori would surely find Tamara the minute she got tired, and the two would toss snarky comments back and forth about the event and the students and if it were anything like their usual banter— it would be the highlight of Tamara’s night.

It wasn’t quite that she was excited. Truthfully, she didn’t see how it’d be much different from any other night with her friends: Ell would make her comfortable, Matilda would bring her out of her shell, and Tori’s sharp tongue would melt Tamara’s very core. But, Tamara was fine with it, and she also couldn’t help but feel a childlike pride at the fact that she’d trampled the status-quo by not wearing a dress.

She knew it wasn’t a big deal, that her white button down tucked into black slacks and accentuated with a dark grey vest and a checkered tie wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of gender nonconformity, and it certainly wasn’t the pinnacle of fashion. But, she felt cute, and she felt herself. Tamara knew her fashion was bad, that checkered accessories were dorky, but it made her feel so uncharacteristically excited to unironically enjoy anything. To escape from irony at all is quite the task as a teenager, and Tamara was profoundly bad at it. Showing up to prom in an embarrassing get up was a sort of bravery, maybe, sort of, not really. It mattered to Tamara, though, which was something.

Maybe.

Ell had picked her up, and the two were on their way to Matilda’s. Her mother had insisted on photographs, which neither Ell or Tamara were stoked about. The two girls didn’t photograph very well, and Matilda always looked amazing, as Ell bitterly pointed out when they drove over. Tamara wasn’t very observant, but if she were she may have noticed the way Ell’s pudgy hands tightened against the steering wheel or the way a gentle little flush coated her chest, cheeks, and ears. But, Tamara was not concerned with such things. Her and Ell weren’t traditionally attractive, but they were fine. Both were overweight, Ell considerably more so. Tamara carried most of her weight in her hips, thighs, and stomach. Ell carried it mostly in her bust and arms, but she did have a nice figure, Tamara supposed. She was proportional. Ell was like a sister to her, it felt weird to analyze her attractiveness.

Tamara watched the trees and houses fly past as Ell drove, and when the two exited Ell’s hand-me-down car, Tamara actually took a moment to properly gush.

It was cheesy, but it kind of made her emotional to see her best friend all dolled up for prom. Tamara offered a crooked grin, and rested her tiny hands on her wide-set hips, “Why, Ms.Guild, you look absolutely stunning!”

And that was true, even for all of Tamara’s need to no-homo her way out of even the most chaste of sentimentalities. Ell’s hair was up in a tight bun, brown locks framing her round cheeks as they fell down around her ears. She had something going on with her hair, it looked like there were little silver and gold flowers in it. Tamara assumed it was a hair clip or a hair band, but she really hadn’t mastered the secrets of femininity. Ell was more butch than she was on a day-to-day, but she did know how to clean up, it seemed.

Ell’s dress was unsurprisingly green, an adorable teacup cut that made her look like an absolute princess. It was a tad shimmery near the bust, and Tamara actually hated herself for being even mildly flustered by her best friend’s cleavage. There came a point in a gay girl’s life where she had to move past that, but Tamara wasn’t there. She hadn’t been laid yet, so even the existence of boobs was a bit much for her mind to handle, but Ell really did look nice. She wore sneakers with her dress, and it made Tamara want to hug her. Tamara had almost wore her checkered vans, but reluctantly opted for black dress shoes. Still, between her checkered tie and Ell’s green converse, they were surely a sight to behold.

Ell rolled her eyes at the compliment, but she smiled the wonderful smile that always made Tamara feel grateful to know her, “Well, shucks, Tammy!” She laughed, glancing towards the pristine home that belonged to Matilda’s parents. It wasn’t a mansion or anything of the sort, but it was a nice house. People with money lived there, “You look adorably butch,”

Tamara snickered at that, glowing with pride, “Thank you!”

Ell opened her mouth to speak again, likely to suggest they ring the doorbell, but she was cut off by a sneak attack from Matilda. The lithe ginger wrapped her arms around Ell in a friendly hug, resting her head on Ell’s shoulder to look at Tamara.

Really, if Tamara weren’t so dense, she’d notice the way Ell tensed underneath Matilda’s dainty, gorgeous hands. But, Tamara didn’t notice, because she supposed she didn’t really care. Which was harsh, but true. Other people’s romantic entanglements were hardly her concern, especially when her own romantic aspirations were as pathetic as they were.

“You guys look so cute!” Matilda beamed, pulling away from Ell. She twirled a long, manicured finger in the air, “Ell, turn around, I want to get a good look at you!”

Ell made a face, something between a cringe and a shy smile, and did as she was told.

Matilda’s hands clasped together, and she actually squealed a little bit, which made Tamara snicker into her hand.

“Ell Guild! You are so pretty! You might even look nicer than I do, which is ridiculous and now I am officially mad at you!” She pouted, crossing her arms. She then beamed, shaking her head, “Just kidding! Acting! I’m not mad, but you do look really nice,”

She then scrutinized Tamara, humming, “And you look…very Tamara,” She chuckled, “It’s nice, I like it. It flatters you well, your waist looks teeny tiny,” Matilda made a squeezing gesture with her pointer finger and thumb, and Tamara scoffed slightly. Matilda was a pretty girl, and Tamara really didn’t want to exist in a plane of reality where pretty girls talked about her figure.

Ell, being a polite human, said the unspoken truth that Matilda so absolutely thrived on, “You look fantastic, Matty!”

Matilda twirled around, the short trail of her tight fitted dress swirling as she did so. It was a silver, sequined garment, and Tamara found it to be a bit much. But, with the matching heels and the delicate makeup that emphasized the soft features of Matilda’s face— there was no denying she looked absolutely angelic. Her hair was curled and it draped down her shoulders, and she looked as regal as ever.  
  
“I know! Don’t I?” She grinned, grabbing Ell gently by the wrist and gesturing with a hand for Tamara to follow, “We’re doing pictures in the backyard by the flower garden,”

“Now? Is Tori here already?” Ell questioned. It was unlike Tori to get somewhere early.

Matilda shook her head, “No, we’re still waiting on her, but Mom wants us to start getting set up now. She’s taking this very seriously,”

That much proved to be very true. They spent the next half hour debating on how everyone should be positioned, which angles had the best lighting, what poses made sense, and so on.

Then, Ell’s phone buzzed. She glanced at Matilda for permission to interrupt this pseudo-ceremony of photo preparation, and she received a little nod. Ell went to her phone, and frowned at it when she opened it.

Matilda called to her, “Is that Tori? Is she on her way?”

“Uh, yes. And no. She can’t make it,” Ell responded

“What, too cool for prom?” Tamara huffed, already bitterly imagining Tori spending the night of senior prom getting high and finger fucking some bimbo. She internally scolded herself for the misogyny latent in her resentments, but she never really scolded herself for the bitter feeling in of itself. Maybe she should.

Ell’s sharp glare in Tamara’s direction did all the scolding for her, and she huffed out a little sigh, “She didn’t say why, Tam, and it’s frankly none of your business,”

Tamara huffed out a bitter little laugh, but dropped it with a glance to the side. She supposed it wasn’t her business, which was sort of fucked up. Tori was theoretically her third closest friend, yet Tamara would never be privy to any information about her life. Which, to be fair, was her own doing. There wasn’t a lot of room for the candid expression of deep emotions during a snarkfest, and Tamara was incapable of being nice to Tori for fear that the first nice thing she said would release the flood gates. So, she had to accept this. The truth, that she was a second class friend and kind of a bitch.

There was no point in sulking over it, but she seemed to keep coming back to this melancholy. She wanted to be close to Tori, wanted to hear her voice softly telling Tamara every gentle feeling and scary thought she had ever had. Which was pathetic, unbelievably so, but Tamara could hardly help but yearn.

She probably was with some girl. A pretty girl, with sparkling eyes and a tiny waist and a flat stomach. A kind girl, who would never use cruelty to mask her affections. A sexy girl, who Tori would want to touch and love on. Not as if it mattered.

It wasn’t any of Tamara’s business.

So, she pushed the thoughts away, or she at least tried her best to. It was a little helpless, as every moment passed she kept imagining something funny Tori would have said if she were here or just feeling her absence.

“It feels weird without Tori here,” Tamara had muttered under her breath, confessing this thought shyly to Ell.

Ell shrugged, “Yeah, definitely. I hope she’s  
doing okay,”

“Yeah,”

If Tori were here, she would have made them do a comedic pose with prayer hands and finger guns. Ell tried as well, yeah, but Tamara didn’t consider it the same. When Ell offered it was goofy, when Tori offered it would have been an exciting command.

Tamara was going to have a terrible evening, if it kept up like this.

**…**

She had to go, she had to go. Everything was a white hot flash, a burning instinct. She’d considered this a million and one times before, but right now Tori could hardly recall the plan. It involved the phone, probably, but that was no longer her top priority. She could find a payphone, or run to the neighbor’s house. Catch a train. Whatever she had to do.

**…**

Tamara supposed she didn’t miss Tori on the ride over, because it always sucked having to squeeze three people in the backseat. Still, Tamara was pathetic enough that she supposed she could still enjoy Tori’s thigh against her own or the closeness of her snarky voice. It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter. Tamara glared out the window, her tiny hands balling up into little fists.

**…**

Tord was the priority. He was so small, he barely even knew what was happening, but Tori was more than aware of the situation they were in. She’d dealt with this for years, and she’d grown thicker skin for it, but Tord was not going to go through that same Hell, and even Tori was sensing that it was no longer safe for her to stay.

**…**

They entered the venue and the lights were a dim red, before fading into a softer blue. Tamara tried not to notice.

**…**

She’d learned about “fight or flight” in her shitty intro to Psychology class, something she’d taken sophomore year and barely absorbed. Tori supposed, in retrospect, instinct was the only thing that kept her alive. Her body felt like it was no longer hers, and her mind’s cunningness certainly belied the pounding terror in her chest.

Tori waited, taking in every physical blow and verbal degradation. Still as a statue, mapping out the house in her head, playing it like chess. There were a finite amount of steps she could take before being captured by a Queen.

**…**

It wasn’t that every song made Tamara think of Tori. Just most of them.

She supposed it didn’t help that her and Ell were belting every damn song, making the lyrics sit heavy in Tamara’s chest. But, she supposed she felt lighter too.

Tori would probably make fun of her unironic enthusiasm, for the way she gripped Ell’s pudgy hands. Nothing grand would happen if she were here, she wouldn’t notice the dip of Tamara’s waist the way Matilda had, or fawn over how suave she looked in her checkered tie.

She’d make out with a prettier girl in the bathroom. Tamara knew that, and she still missed her. She missed her as a friend, missed her as a person, missed her mocking and her wit and the beauty of her smile. Tamara wanted to be with her, even if she could never be _with_ her.

Still, Tamara meant every word she belted, every generic song that had been through the radio so many times that everyone knew the lyrics. Tonight, she was the performer she always wished she could be, and every song was dedicated to a sharp-tongued marxist.

Tamara did her best not to break out laughing at the dramatic irony of “Cooler than me,”. When she giggled, Ell assumed it was because of how cheesy the song was. That was only partly true.

And maybe her far away look was a bit too evident during “Animals”, because Matilda pulled her into the crowd and danced with her in such a ridiculous and genuine matter that Tamara didn’t even register the lyrics of the song that played next, she was laughing too hard.

**…**

There was a pause, barely a millisecond, where her mother’s attention was not focused on Tori. That was all she needed, to bolt to Tord’s room and scoop him up in her arms. He babbled in confusion, his eyes were puffy and his breathing was quick, he had heard the fighting and gotten scared.

Tori held him tight, close to her chest, and went out the backdoor and ran down the block with a speed she had no idea she was capable of. Yes, she was on quite a few sports teams at her school, but she always imagined she’d freeze. Never in her life did she believe she could get this far.

**…**

The crowd quickly became suffocating, the air moist and warm and entirely repugnant. Tamara and Matilda made their way back to Ell, who had been chatting with some of her other friends for a bit. Tamara’s face was red, and Matilda nodded towards the snack table. The three retreated to drink ungodly quantities of water and gorge themselves on sugary finger food.

Matilda nudged Tamara, “That was fun, right?”

“Guilty as charged, I suppose,”

Ell smirked, “Let yourself have fun, dude,”

Tamara shrugged, “I am,” She then paused, “But, like, seriously, i think it’s kind of ridiculous they haven’t played any ska music. Like, it’s not that obscure or underground these days,”

Ell patted her back, “I know, honey, it’s hard to have such bad taste these days,”

Tamara huffed and nudged her gently, “It’s good. Better than cheesy pop music,”

“We know you feel that way. The checkers on your tie tell us more than you ever could,” Ell teased, “Also, fuck you, you love cheesy pop music and you know it,”

Matilda gently touched Ell’s shoulder, glancing between her and Tamara, “Guys, do I still look hot?”

Ell took too long to respond, so Tamara offered, “You look fine. Better than most of these idiots,”

Matilda was satiated by this, “I’ll take it. You’d tell me if I looked weird, right?”

“Oh, gladly,”

**…**

The evening was still, everything stagnant except for the gentle flicker of streetlights. Tori felt tears pricking at her eyes, and when she squeezed Tord close it was just as much for her own sake as it was for his.

She kept moving, there was no time to catch her breath. There was no doubt they were being followed. She glanced around, trying to make out the different houses in the dark. They all looked infuriatingly similar, but Tori would have to save her loathing for suburbia for another time. Right now, she had to keep her little brother alive.

Grim, but there was no saying what her mother was going to do next. As far as Tori was concerned, this very well could be a matter of life or death. So, she ducked into the woods. Well, woods was a bit generous, but a collection of trees that hadn’t been hacked down yet. Enough for cover, far enough away from the house, because she couldn’t waste time on someone’s doorstep to explain herself.

She shifted Tord slightly so she could support him with one arm, kissing his forehead and assuring him they were going to be okay.

Feeling the heaviness of her phone in her back pocket, she was grateful to herself that she had texted Ell earlier, otherwise she was sure she’d have left her cellphone on the kitchen table. Tori reached for it, and quickly called up her grandmother.

Voice a quiet, shaking plea, she provided her grandmother their exact location.

“Please hurry. Text me when you’re here. Otherwise, we’re staying put. No way to know whose headlights we might see,” She laughed, a bitter and quiet chuckle. Tori was so scared.

**…**

Tamara didn’t understand the point of slow dances. Not to say she was a cynic who loathed romance, or even that she was at a level of hipster that she despised the cliche of it— the act just seemed profoundly ridiculous. No high school couple wants to voyeuristically partake in a gentle intimacy, swaying nervously to a cheesy song and panicking over where to place their hands.

And, certainly, no single person is having the time of their life. Standing still, arms crossed, hushed complaints and raised brows. Even Matilda seemed off, eyes darting at the dance floor and then back to Ell and Tamara.

“We could dance together?” Matilda offered gently, and it was cute. It was. But Tamara didn’t really give a damn.

Ell laughed quietly, “All three of us?”

“No,” Tamara shook her head, patting Ell’s shoulder, “You two. I’m gonna go take a piss,”

Ell whipped her head back towards Tamara with a panicked expression, but Tamara just dismissed her with a casual wave, “I’ll return,”

Tamara didn’t look back to see if they actually did dance together, or if the two stood there awkwardly instead. She felt a bit cruel for it, but Tamara didn’t care about them very much in the current moment. She just wanted to leave, she really just wanted to leave.

She wanted to stop imagining Tori Larsen out of the corner of her eye, in a tight fitting dress and smiling at Tamara in the way that always made her heart feel tight. Tamara didn’t want to even dare think, for half a moment, about if Tori and her would ever dance together. It was unlikely, but maybe she’d have strutted over with that adorable shit-eating grin and asked. Just asked, with her unprecedented confidence and charm, and Tamara would fight but she’d say yes. Of course she’d say yes, and she’d lean up and touch Tori’s shoulders and it would be embarrassing and stupid but she was sure Tori would be warm and that her hands would be sturdy and…

Tamara made her way to the restroom, opened the door and splashed some water in her face. She dabbed herself dry with a paper towel, and sighed, “Pathetic…” She breathed, gently, barely audible.

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her pudgy arms up and readjusted her bun and then she tugged at her vest and fiddled with her tie. The clothing she wore hugged at pudge and rolls by her waist and hips, but she supposed Matilda was right. She looked very much like herself, and her curves were pretty well accented by the vest. Her small waist and wide hips, her subtle bust and thick thighs; it all looked rather pleasant, and Tamara felt cute. She wished that meant more to her, that feeling cute was enough. Her small hands touched her rounded cheeks, and she sighed, “Get your act together, asshole,” Tamara berated her reflection, before exiting the restroom.

**…**

Tori’s phone buzzed. She quickly took it out, and she felt a sob catch in her throat as she read it. Her grandmother was here, and that was all that mattered, they were going to be safe. It didn’t matter that she had also received 15 false alarms, that were just her mother angrily demanding to know where she and Tord had run off to, because her grandmother was here.

She held Tord close, and kissed his cheek. Tori wished she could stop feeling so terrified, because she was sure it was only making her brother more upset, but it was the best she could do just to keep from crying.

Tori made her way past the trees, and she let out a whimpering sound of utter relief when she saw her grandmother’s car. She never realized she could find safety in something so simple. She got in the back, quickly, because she wanted to sit with Tord and because the windows were darkened. The moment she shut the door she began to cry. Tori buried her face in her hands, wincing at the way her eye stung under the gentle pressure.

Her grandmother said nothing, just drove. She was a stern woman, much like Tori with her stubbornness and her sharp tongue. Most importantly, her and Tori had discussed this before, that things might get worse than the verbal abuse and neglect. She’d ask questions when they were safe at her home, with Tori’s grandfather ready with tea.

For now, she’d let her cry. This poor girl had been feigning strength for years now. She deserved these tears.

**…**

When Tamara returned, she draped her arms over Ell and Matilda’s shoulders— an awkward endeavor, given that Matilda was way too fucking tall to be a real human, “Hey kids, how are ya doing?” She smirked, before losing her footing and letting go of both of them. She stuck her arms out and huffed out a breath.

Ell let out a snorting laugh at this, and Matilda giggled behind cupped hands.

Tamara furrowed her brows and glared at both of them, who responded by taking one of her hands each and pulling her in for another dance. Tamara snickered fondly at this, and with a little sigh decided there was no reason to fight it.

**…**

Chamomile. Tori wanted Chamomile tea. She always did. And Tord wanted hot chocolate. Normally Tori would gently scold him for his sweet tooth, but not tonight. As they sat on the old, pale yellow couch, Tord nestled against Tori’s side and she wrapped an arm securely around him and both of them cried.

Tord kept asking if they were okay now, if Tori was going to get hit again, and Tori could hardly answer him. She just whimpered gently and squeezed him closer to her.

Their grandmother, Ingrid, sat across from them in a withered armchair. She placed two mugs in front of them, “Give them a bit to cool down,” She said simply, before standing up and walking over to her grandchildren and hugging them both.

“I love you. You’re safe here,”

Tori wrapped the arm not holding Tord around her grandmother’s shoulders and sobbed thoroughly. Face red, snot and tears pouring down her face, she cried and cried and cried.

The tears continued on and off for quite some time, and by the time they stopped both of their drinks were cold. Tord’s eyes were getting heavy, and he let out a yawn. Their grandfather scooped him up, and Tori leaned up and grabbed his little hands and kissed his palms, “I love you,” She whispered to him, and he frowned and reached his arms out for her. Tori looked up to her grandfather, “I’ll tuck him in,”

He smiled warmly and nodded, handing Tori’s little brother to her. She blew a raspberry into his cheek and scooped him up in her arms, “Come on, we had a long night, it’s time to get some rest,” Tori murmured, standing up and making her way to the guest room upstairs.

“She’s not coming, is she?”

“No, she’s not coming,” Tori lied, because of course she would.

“No one’s going to hurt you?”

“No,”

Tord relaxed at that, nuzzling his face against Tori’s shoulder, “Okay. I’d protect you, if she tried to hurt you again. I’ll build a bomb. Boom,” His voice was soft and sleepy, and Tori needed to start policing the sort of shit he was watching on TV.

Tori kissed the top of his head, “Shush, I know. Everything’s okay. No bombs necessary,”

Tord chuckled, but there was hesitation to his laughter. Tori knew he didn’t entirely believe her, but she would do her best to assure him she meant it. Even if her mother came back, she wouldn’t take Tord. That woman would murder Tori in cold blood before she’d lay a hand on her brother, but that wasn’t much better. What would Tord do if Tori was killed? It was best not to think so catastrophically, she supposed.

Gently, Tori opened the door to the guest room. It was nice, with a queen sized bed and plenty of room to wander. Tord could easily stay here, there was room for his toys and clothes. They could even share this room if they had to. Tori placed Tord down on the bed and took off his shoes for him. He could do it himself, but she didn’t want him to. It had been a pretty rough night, Tori could coddle him.

Tori grabbed the covers and lifted them over his little body, tucking him in tightly. She pressed a kiss to his forehead. Tori had to go back down, she had to call the police, or ask her grandmother to call the police, and find a good lawyer and get pictures of her eye and… and Tord was reaching out for her, and he was so small, and scared, and he was the most important thing. So, Tori kicked off her shoes and got under the covers with Tord and held him close until he fell asleep in her arms.

Once she was sure he wouldn’t wake up, she pulled herself slowly off of him and quietly left the room. Closing the door behind her, she made her way back downstairs.

Composed as she could be, she approached her grandparents, “What do I have to do to get Tord out of that house?”

**…**

The night was coming to an end, and Tamara was grateful for that. It really hadn’t been an unpleasant evening, but it was still just as loud and sweaty as she’d anticipated— and she was happy to be done with it. Also, in a way, it felt like a last hurrah. A final “fuck you” to High School, as her senior year came to a close. Naively, as well, she hoped that leaving the venue would free her of the emptiness she felt in Tori’s absence. Tamara tried not to imagine the wild sex she was likely having right now, but the thought crossed her mind and it made her want to hurl.

The three retired to Ell’s house, where they thoroughly dressed themselves down and then robbed Ell of her pajamas. The plan had been to have a slumber party of sorts, with junk food, alcohol, and shitty movies. But, by the time they got home— they were all ready to just sleep. And sleep they did, sprawled out on Ell’s living room floor. and curled against a disorderly arrangement of blankets and pillows that had been haphazardly tossed to the ground earlier.

**…**

Tori stayed up until nearly 4am with her grandparents, calling up different numbers to figure out what their next move was. They took a picture of her eye, and of her wrists where her mother had grabbed her, and after that Tori’s grandparents told her she could sleep.

“We’ll take care of this, Tori. If we need you to do anything, we’ll let you know,”

“Okay,” Tori had responded, but she didn’t leave. When she fell asleep, finally, it was on the couch, and she awoke in a panic at 8am when she realized Tord was alone upstairs. She was about to bolt up, assure him she was okay, and that no one could hurt them, but when Tori sat up she saw Tord sat at the kitchen table.

“Morning,” He smiled when he saw her, and Tori broke out into laughter and buried her face against the back cushions of the couch.

She stood up, and listened idly as her grandparents detailed to her what the situation was. There would be a custody battle sometime in the upcoming week, but until then Tord and her could stay at the house and Tori’s mother wasn’t allowed near them. Tori wasn’t sure exactly how everything worked out, or if she was being told over simplified comforts, but it satiated her.

Tori had breakfast with Tord and her grandparents, and then sat at the couch with him and watched cartoons until her mind went blank and she couldn’t keep running through the thoughts driven by anxiety, fear, and paranoia. Her breathing slowed down, and she felt safe.  
  
The two stayed like this for most of the day, neither really wanting to face their own minds. Technicolor distractions were warmly welcomed by the two siblings, and when Tord eventually tuckered himself out around 2pm and curled up against the arm of the couch, Tori stood up and stretched. She went upstairs, to take a shower and pee, because she needed to feel human again.

While waiting for the water to heat up, Tori scrolled through her social media apps. It was an idle habit, she hadn’t really thought much of it— until her Instagram feed was bombarded with prom photo after prom photo and Tori remembered that senior prom had been the night before. Right. She missed it, she missed it because she was running from her abusive mother. God, she hated that woman, she hated that she couldn’t have just had a carefree night. School dances were lame, sure, but her friends were cute and they’d laugh and twirl around and Tamara would be adorably pouty and Tori would imagine kissing her crinkled up little nose but hook up with someone less unattainable instead. It would have been nice. Not a dream prom, but a prom, and she didn’t get to have it. Only looking through her feed did she really come to terms with how much that upset her. Not once had she thought about it before.

That bitter feeling of remorse was quickly replaced by something more uncomfortable when she came across Matilda’s Instagram. She had posted photos that her mom had taken, and Tori realized it was maybe better that she hadn’t gone, because holy shit Tamara in a suit was not something she was capable of dealing with. Her heart still felt tight with anxiety, but for a brief moment she felt light as she went to Tamara’s page, where there was a better resolution picture paired with a shitty, cynical caption that Tori didn’t care about. What she cared about was her cute smile, and the way the pudge of her cheeks made her eyes crinkle, and her round nose and how _stupid_ and adorably _her_ that checkered tie was and the way that vest emphasized the erotic dip of her waist and how those slacks hugged the curviness of her legs. Tori was going to lose it, this girl was the tiniest and cutest and curviest and pudgiest thing and she was in a _suit_ and she looked like she was wearing butch as a costume but it also fit her so well, and Tori felt an ache in her chest again.

Maybe if she had gone to prom she could have worked up the courage to tell Tamara how cute she was, without sarcasm. Maybe Tamara would have blushed and laughed, shyly, and maybe she’d have let Tori hold her tiny little hands and kiss her knuckles. Maybe she’d have let Tori kiss her pouty little lips.

Tori groaned, and put her phone down. She supposed feeling bad for herself for being unable to score a cute girl was better than the other slew of terrible emotions she was going through, but it didn’t really feel that way. It just felt like one more example upon many of Tori’s utter hopelessness. So charming, she was, or at least that was what the girls she’d hook up with in bathroom stalls and cars and basements would say, but charming didn’t keep her from getting hit. Charming wasn’t going to guarantee her brother’s safety, and charming didn’t earn her anything but irritation from Tamara.

She stepped into the shower, and let the warm water rush over her body. Everything hurt, and she felt pathetic and hopeless, and she wanted and she wanted and she wanted. Tori supposed she really was hopeless after all. Because it certainly wasn’t dignity and optimism that made her mind keep circling back to the burned in image of Tamara’s adorable suit, and it certainly wasn’t hopeful how she touched herself sadly under the flow of water and imagined it was Tamara. Tamara, Tamara, Tamara. What a silly girl. So angry, so smart, so adorable. So soft, too. Tori needed soft right now, and she removed her hand from her crotch, because she was far too upset to get off. Disappointing, given how stupidly sexy Tamara looked, but Tori didn’t need sexy. She imagined hugging Tamara. She was so small and chubby, it’d probably be like clinging onto a pillow, and it was taking everything for Tori not to start crying at the thought. She needed to be held, and maybe it was unhealthy to project that desire onto Tamara.

When Tori got out of the shower, she dried herself off and wrapped a towel around her body. Her phone buzzed and she nervously checked it, afraid it would be her mother again, but it wasn’t.

It was Ell, asking her how her night had been. Saying she was missed. Saying Tamara missed her, especially. That made Tori laugh, and she could tell Ell was being sarcastic even through text.

Letting out a sigh, and smiling bitterly, Tori wrote back:

_“Long. I’ll tell you about it later,”_

Too serious? She sighed, supposing she should acknowledge Ell’s comedic stylings, keep things lighthearted.

_“Ha, right. I’m sure she did. Tell her I missed her too ;P”_

That was a half truth on her end, but that was fine. Ell wouldn’t tell her, and if she did, it would just made Tamara uncomfortable.

_“Tamara says she hates you,”_

Quick response.

For once, the idea that Tamara loathed her didn’t make Tori want to laugh, it just made her feel sort of sad. But, she supposed she just wasn’t really in a very witty mood. So, her only response was:

 _“I know”_  
_“;^)”_

 


End file.
